


Clean/Dirty

by bossy



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Written in 2007, haha i can't title old things well i'm sorry, i don't know how this fits into canon but everybody is over 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 15:42:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossy/pseuds/bossy





	Clean/Dirty

Near is best and Mello is a loser, Near is clean and Mello is dirty, and when Mello arrives at Near’s place, straight from the airport, bag slung over his shoulder, skin raw over half his face, the difference has never been so noticeable; grime underneath Mello’s fingernails and Near so pure and naive and fragile. Mello’s eyes like shards of glass and Near’s wide and smooth and unbroken, and Mello looks straight at him with a jaded gaze as he says through dry lips, “there’s a shinigami.”

Near knows nothing and Mello knows everything, and sometimes Mello wants to strangle him because of it, wants to show him what’s in front of his face, wants to tell him to stop fucking acting because it’s never going to be like he wants it. Nobody else is ever going to be like Near, and no one ever deserves to be.

Mello’s coat is heavy over his shoulders, the gun strong and shaking in his fingers before Mello has realized that he’s even taken it out. But he’d shoot: he wants to draw Near into his world, wants Near to step outside with him, to change out of those clothes and see the world through Mello’s eyes.

Near doesn’t move, doesn’t react, and Mello’s clenching his other hand into a fist, fingernails digging into his skin hard and drawing blood, and Near’s probably never even seen blood before, never smelled it deep and pungent on his skin, felt it soak through his clothes from the inside. Probably never felt the adrenaline rush of shooting a gun or someone else’s skin on his cock, probably never even touched himself (one hand curling in his hair hard as he leans over, gasps, moaning “Mello Mello Mello,” squeezing his eyes shut as he sits up again, biting down on his lip, wiping sweat off his forehead and panting hard) and he’s not gonna take this anymore. The only thing left to do is leave, get out of that room and building and country and find Kira on his own. 

And when he leaves, he loses Near.


End file.
